Ryim Hawthorne: Extraordinary
by Unforgettable.Love
Summary: Life is full of choices,but you don't always get to choose. Like having to live with an uncle and cousin you don't know. And having a human shadow in the form of Paul Lahote? No, you don't always get to choose. Paul/OC
1. Chapter 1

_Ryim Hawthorne: Extraordinary_

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><p>Chapter 1:<br>_The Predator and it's Prey_

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><p>Life is all about choices.<p>

The choices that we make every day of our lives.

The trivial ones – deciding what to wear or worrying if that cute senior boy two seats down from you heard you whispering to your friend that you liked him – those are the most prevalent in our lives. The important ones – what college to apply to or what career to pursue – those are the ones we treasure the most or the ones we regret the most.

But it always come down to two facts: one, life is full of choices that you can't avoid and two, these choices are for you – and you alone – to make.

That's what my parents would say. _Life is full of choices – choices that you are going to be in charge of making. As your parents, it's our job to get you ready to make them._

Until I was old enough, was what they meant. Until that sudden realization that I had nearly reached adulthood hit them, I was still learning to make my choices and _learning_ meant sometimes being _overruled_.

But that was the great thing about my parents: they never overruled. They trusted me, knew that I would make the right decisions for myself. They let me choose what I wanted to wear, what college to considering applying to and what career seemed like the best choice for _me_, not just my future.

Hell, they even let me choose which boy I wanted to whisper about.

But then it all stopped.

The world around me froze and no longer did anyone care about the choices that _I _wanted to make. I had spent my life, all seventeen years of it, doing what I felt was best for me. My friends, my classes, my sports. _I _chose them because _I_ liked them. But it didn't matter anymore. _Things were different now_ was what they muttered, over and over again under mumbled and stressed voices.

I didn't get to choose if I wanted to move from my home in Florida to an uncle's house in some small speck in Washington to live with a man I'd met all of once – and when I was ten, barely interested in being there.

I didn't get to decide that leaving my friends, my school and the only place that reminded me of _them_ was the best thing for me and my future.

I didn't get to choose anything after they _left_ me.

_But it's not their fault_, I remember, repeating it over and over to myself in the silent ride from the airport to my uncle's – Billy, I learn is his name – house, refusing to speak to any of the two people in the car.

Christopher, though I'd termed him _turtle_ for the way his back was always hunched over in fatigue, is driving. A frustrated crease has worked its way onto his pale white skin, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. The long black hair that he insists on never cutting is tucked behind his ear and has me wondering the whole ride if he is secretly gay – well that and the fact that he cares a little _too_ much for clothes. This, unfortunately, is my brother and the sole reason that I am in a car driving very, very far from my life.

Close siblings we never were. We refused to agree on anything and constantly bickered as if nothing would please us more (and to be honest, nothing really did). There were never those touchy feely moments between my brother and I like you see in the movies. The ones were the brother and sister argue and argue, only to make it up in the end, telling each other how much they meant to one another. That wasn't us and it never would be, especially now.

We were always screaming and punching. He viewed life too strictly – with too much of a need to have a plan for every second of life. I was more free – able to go with the wind and happy to take random moments in life and treasure them.

It was hard to tell we were related, other than the constant bickering that gave it away that we were siblings. Where he had black hair and dark brown eyes, I have blonde hair and unusual gray eyes. Where he was of medium height, I was tall, standing at five feet ten inches. He is built with muscles; I am slender with small muscles – though to this day I still remain stronger than him.

To his turtles right, in the passenger seat, is his girlfriend – Jane. Jane is, to clear all clichéd phrases out of the way, _not_ plain. With sleek black hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to bring out the darker tones in her tanned skin, she'd been offered far too many modeling careers to count on just two hands.

I hate her with a fierceness I'd never known toward anything else in my life. And it isn't because she's beautiful. It's because she's a straight out bitch. The girl has a major superiority complex, thinking she's better than everyone around her because she's so _goddamn gorgeous_. The second she heard that Christopher had been granted guardianship over me, the suggestion of Washington flew out of her mouth so fast, I was surprised there weren't skid marks. Anything to keep my brother at her beck and call, as if I wanted anything to do with him in the first place.

The minute we pull to a stop in front of what I vaguely remember to be Billy's house, I throw open the door and slam it behind me, making a bee line for the forest. A string of obscenities are flinging from my mouth, some muttered and some screamed, giving them a clear sense that I did _not _want to be bothered.

The forest, at least, is a redeeming quality of the reservation here in La Push, Washington. I've spent the majority of my life in the woods. It was my playground of sorts. When I was younger and first showed interest in wanting to go, my father happily took me in. For years he taught me everything he knew about hunting and surviving in the forest. Even in the darkest nights, with the right tools, I can shoot down any animal.

I suppose the forest's where I feel most secure and at home. If I'd had a choice in all of this mess, I would have rather lived in the woods than to move here.

Climbing the nearest tree with ease, fairly deep into the forest and darkened by the many branches blocking out the light, I leaned my back against the tree. My feet dangled over the edge peacefully and I estimated that I was a good fifteen, maybe twenty feet in the air. Low enough, I decided.

For the first time since I found out I'd be moving, a genuine smile spread across my face. It felt nice to relax, to not hate everyone around me for not including me in the decision of how my life would play out. I felt relaxed and ready to take a small nap, having refused one in the plane ride and the car ride, when I heard them.

A bunch of boys at the beginning of the forest.

They were complaining, grumbling about the fact that someone named Sam had made them go into the woods. That it wasn't their fault that _"the idiot decided to stomp off into the woods thinking she'd be safe." _

They'd be horrible hunters, I decide, rolling my eyes. Even with my back to them, pressed against the tree and completely out of their line of sight I know how many there are: four in total, two walking more ahead than the others. Their feet crunches down into the earth, snapping every twig and leaf in their path, with an air of almost arrogance around them. As if they own the damn forest.

My name. My name, _Ryim,_ pops into their conversation and suddenly catches my full attention. I turn my body to face them and watch as the near me, still unaware that I can see them perfectly and hear every word their saying with a clarity not many people have.

The first to come into view is tall – though they all stand at what looks like six feet at the least from this height – with an arrogant gait about him. He is shirtless, as are the others. His dark hair is short and a tribal tattoo adorns his right arm, though I see this is not an individualized trait. The other three sport the same tattoo in the same place on their right arm. I notice the way he holds himself and I'm sure that he thinks he's hot stuff, which I'll be happy to disprove if I am given the chance.

The one to his left, walking slightly ahead of the two in back, is almost a complete opposite. The two share the same dark, tanned skin that I assume is normal with the locals as the other two look similar, but the way he holds himself is different. No arrogance, but a hint of playfulness.

The third boy that I study is vaguely familiar, in the same way that Billy's house is and I assume that this is because this boy is Jacob Black, the cousin I'd been introduced to when I was ten and visiting La Push. His looks haven't changed much, though the height and muscles definitely have. I sense a more commanding presence off of him, though it's laced with what I assume is worry – I can just make out of the creases in his forehead as his urges the other to keep an eye out.

The last boy, who appears to be the youngest of the group, is wearing a smile on his face, his eyes sparkling in amusement of the joke that had just been told. He looks similar to the group he is with – built, tall, with dark hair and tanned skin. But he seems different to me and I decide it's because he seems to be genuinely kind hearted.

After deciding that I know as much of their appearance that I need to, I tune into their conversation. Not surprisingly, it is still about me. The arrogant one continues to complain, earning annoyed sighs from the others and a plea to focus from Jacob.

"It's not my fault your cousin decided to get lost in the forest," He argues back to the group, anger rising in his voice.

The fact that I am annoyed that not only have I become the topic of suggestion or the fact that my brother and his snooty girlfriend sent them in after me, but am getting insulted causes me to clear my throat, catching the attention of the group who have walked right past me. They're surprised, eyes wide as they tilt their heads to see me sitting casually in the tree. The trees made it extremely dark and that added with my height in the tree made them miss me. I can see that a few are questioning if I'm the girl they're looking for.

I don't fight the smirk that finds its way onto my face. I really don't like to be insulted on my skills with the forest.

"I'm not lost."

I half expect the arrogant one to snap out something snarky, but it never comes. Instead, when I look I find him staring, very openly, with his mouth slightly agape. A shiver runs up my spine at the intensity of his gaze. It is unnerving, but I ignore him and the comment of _knock it off, Paul,_ that Jacob gives, turning my head away.

Aware that my attempt at a nap will be futile, I scoot closer to the edge and drop, landing swiftly on my feet before any of the boys can make a move to catch me. Completely unharmed, I stand and stretch my hands above me head, earning confused and shocked glances.

"We're only forty feet or so into the forest, straight in from the house. I highly doubt that anyone would get lost in such a short distance."

My words don't seem to reach their ears. Instead, the youngest stutters out a question.

"H-how did you do that?"

My eyebrows rise. "Do what?" I question, before I remember that it isn't everyday people see someone jump a good twenty feet to the ground and survive unscathed.

"Jump from that tree!" The jokester shouts.

Yes, I affirm my earlier accusation; they would all be horrible hunters.

"I just did. It's really not that hard," I insist and it isn't. At least, not to me.

I can tell they want to ask more questions and I can feel the arrogant one, _Paul_ as I heard the others call him earlier, still staring at me. Instead of sticking around to be bombarded with questions I did not want to answer, I turn and quickly make my way out of the forest. It is a short distance to the house and I cross it quickly, soon standing at the door to the house I assume my brother is in.

Christopher's voice is loud and booming, and he is once against complaining that this – I assume he means my actions – is why he cannot take control of me. I scoff, rolling my eyes. _Bull_. The reason he cannot take care of me is that his precious girlfriend demanded I be shipped away.

I push the door open and walk confidently into the living room, where it is full of life. My brother is sitting next to Jane on the couch. I contain the laugh that I want to bark out at the concern that she has managed to fake. Besides them there is a man in a wheelchair – who I remember is Billy – one girl, and three other boys who, much like the four I ran into, are shirtless.

"Ryim, dear," Billy starts, turning his wheelchair to face me. I offer him a soft smile and he continues. "We thought you were lost."

"I wasn't lost," I assure him, just as the four boys I left in the woods come bounding in.

Of course, the first thing the jokester boy – whose name I have yet to learn – decides to shout is, "She jumped down twenty feet from a tree!"

This little fact sends my brother ranting and I throw a rather mean glare in the boy's direction.

"Calm down Christopher," I snap, nearly calling him turtle. "I'm very much alive as you can see. Besides, I've jumped from much higher heights before."

Whipping his head in my direction, my brother takes a few steps and stops only when his face is inches from mine. "Enough! You spend too much time in those damned forests of yours! You could get hurt and won't be able to protect yourself. What do you see in spending so much time there anyway?"

I've tried to be somewhat manageable since I boarded the plane. Not once did I insult Jane and her constant need to look in a mirror every five minutes. I didn't snap at my brother in the car ride, when he continued to send me aggravated and worried glances in the rear view mirror. But I would not stand and take it anymore.

Blocking out the presence of everyone else in the room, my face hardens into the mask I wear when I hunt. I reach out quickly, turning my brother around in his spot, bending his arm behind his back. I ignore the yelp that leaves his lips, aware of exactly how much pressure I have on his arm and knowing that it will not break.

The room falls silent, save a few gasps that escape the group. They are all surprised that I'm stronger than I look and I let them be. I don't like to be underestimated.

"Don't you _ever_ tell me I spend too much time in the forest," I hiss before I push him forward, watching as he stumbles forward, nearly falling.

He manages to catch himself and turn to face me, rubbing his now sore arm. I don't do these things on purpose. It's not like I want to aggravate him. He provokes me – does things and says things that he knows will push me over the edge.

"Maybe if you spent enough time in those _damned forest_ you'd be man enough to defend yourself against a girl."

One of the larger boys in the group stands and clears his throat. "Ryim, right?" He asks, to which I stiffly nod my head, peeling my glare away from my brother and fixing a soft gaze on the boy. "My name is Sam. Why don't we get some air outside?"

I don't know Sam – I can tell that he is the leader of the group, strong and powerful, but I don't _know_ him. Still, I nod my head and notice that as soon as I shift to leave, so does Paul. A hunter at heart, I notice much more than the average person and at times, like these, I wish I didn't. It sends another weird shiver down my spine as I follow Sam out.

As it turns out, everyone in the living room decide to follow us, except Billy, my brother and Jane, which is fine by me. It's an awkward feeling standing on the grass of Billy's lawn, but I'm ever focused on the people around me, and their movements. I don't know why, but I feel on edge, sensing something _off_.

"Are you two always like that?" A voice breaks through the silence. It's Jacob.

I nod my head. "And he always starts it."

Paul's hand twitches – it's a small movement, but I catch it. He wants to reach out to me and, on instinct, I move slightly further away from him. His face drops immediately and I feel the tiniest hint of guilt well up in me, but I push it away.

"I remember you two fighting when you came to visit that one year."

"And I'm sure it was his fault," I add, a small, soft smile now on my lips. Just being away from my brother seems to lift my mood. "Sorry about that though," I apologize. "He has a way of getting under my skin."

They all nod their heads and for a moment we fall back into an awkward silence before the young one of the group, who introduces himself as Seth, speaks up. "How did you make that jump?"

I answer quickly and with a shrug of my shoulders. "Instinct."

"Instinct," he questions, pushing for an elaboration. But I don't have one.

"I've been good with that kind of thing every since I was little. It's easy for me, like I've done it for hundreds of years."

"That's a little weird to think of yourself as having done something for a hundred years when you're only seventeen, isn't it?"

I nod my head, and say with a smile on my face, "I'm a skinny girl with strange gray eyes who hunts in the woods and strives better in their than the real world. I'm the definition of weird."

The group bursts into a round of laughter and Jacob walks over to me, draping an arm around my shoulders. His laugh shakes my body and the heat rolling off of him makes me glad I had decided to wear shorts. "You're going to fit in perfectly."

I can't help it – I smile. His words bring a bit of comfort I don't remember seeking. Maybe, I think, it won't be so bad in La Push, Washington after all.

Then my trained eyes catch the jealous look Paul is shooting at Jacob and I know that things are going to be much more interesting than I expect.

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><p><em>Welcome, my dears, to my new story: Ryim Hawthorne: Extraordinary. It is, as you've guessed, an imprint story. I've been toying with this idea for a while. Ryim Hawthorne has been my favorite character for a long time, but I've never written anything with her and this is kind of a test. Ryim, if you haven't guessed, isn't an ordinary girl. She lives pretty much to hunt in the forest, climbing trees and pretending as though the outside world doesn't really exist, and has a killer eye for detail. And she's got a temper. Don't worry, the next chapter is filled with more interactions and more history on Ryim. Oh, and there's going to be more running in the forest - against the warning of the pack (so it's going to be fun!).<em>

_Let me know what you think about the story so far and about Ryim!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Ryim Hawthorne: Extraordinary_

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><p>Chapter 2:<br>_Of Arguments, Injuries, and Secrets._

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><p>Christopher is talking to Billy about me while Jane is in the shower across the room I'm currently boarded up in. He thinks I can't hear what they're saying but it is as clear to me as if they were standing right in front of me.<p>

"Thank you again, Billy, for doing this. I... I can't handle her."

Billy gives off a small laugh, ever the jovial man. "It's no trouble at all. She is more then welcome here. I'm sure she'll be just fine."

My brother's voice takes on a scornful tone. "If you can keep her out of those damn woods."

"What is it that makes her go there?"

Christopher answers Billy, sighing as he does so. "I don't have a damned clue."

I can picture him hunched over in his chair, a frustrated look plastered on his features. Of course he doesn't understand why I rather spend my time their then with others. He never bothered to get to know me and he never will. Christopher will never be close enough to know my secrets.

The anger is building in me. I have no mirror to see, but I'm sure there is a ferocious scowl on my face, my gray eyes darkened. There's only one place I'll be able to calm down and I'm sure I can't leave through the front door to get there. After todays stunt, I'm sure Christopher is adamant about keeping me in. Instead, my eyes drift to the window to my right. It's a one-story house. The drop from the window to the ground will be much shorter than the drop from the tree I'd jumped from earlier. No one will hear me and no one will know I'm gone – they'll think I've fallen asleep.

Walking over to the window, I listen as I slide it up, careful to note that Billy and Christopher are still deep in conversation. There's an instant rush of cold night air that engulfs me. I smile and hold the ledge of the window, sliding my feet out. Before I make the drop I look around the yard. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the night, but once they do I can see just as well as I can during the day, if not a little better – which is strange, I admit.

Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary and everyone is out of sight. Billy and my brother are still inside, while I'm sure Jane is still in the bathroom, looking in the mirror. I don't know why, but I half expect Paul to be somewhere, watching me. But he isn't. He left with the others a few hours ago – though I could feel he hadn't wanted to. He's a weird one, that boy, I decide. He genuinely makes me feel uncomfortable.

With the coast clear I jump down, landing softly on the damp grass with my bare feet. An almost instantaneous smile spreads across my face as I dig my feet into the ground, enjoying the sensation of the earth. It's not long before I break from my trance, quietly running into the forest, my blonde hair blowing in the wind behind me. I reach the forest's edge in seconds and send a mischievous glance in my brother's direction before disappearing into the dark woods.

The sharp night air whips past me as I run, dodging trees and branches, and I remember how much I feel at home in here. The trees loom above, making the forest darker than Billy's yard, the stars and the moon completely blacked out. But the darkness doesn't bother me – it's welcomed. I've spent many nights hiding out in the forest and from the very beginning had felt more safe – more covered and alert – in the dark.

I don't know when it happens – it's really something of a blur to me – but I hit a small clearing in the woods, barely eight feet all around, and I collapse on the forest floor in sudden exhaustion. It's confusing – I'd run longer and harder before and had been fine, yet the short distance I ran leaves me completely drained. Then it hits me.

I'm not tired, I'm _sad_.

I'm here in La Push, a small and wet reservation, where my brother is going to dump me for the rest of my life under the guardianship of an uncle I don't really know. I've been stripped away from my home, my friends, and my forest.

And mom and dad aren't here for me.

They've left me alone to fend for myself. Left me to deal with my brother and his selfish girlfriend, an uncle and cousin that I don't know, and a boy that won't stop looking at me in that funny way mom used tell me about. But they're supposed to be here! They're supposed to yell at me and love me and take care of me!

Tears are falling from my eyes before I realize. My body crumples to the ground in a heap and I let the sobs escape. The dress I'm wearing, a soft yellow sundress my mother bought me years ago, is soiled. Mud has already stained its fabric and it clings to my body, damp. This is the first time since they died that I let it get to me – that I let any emotion beside anger and resentment show. Everyone told me it would help; that I'd feel better after I'd cried it out, but it doesn't feel any better as the tears continue to fall.

It feels worse.

I remember everything in a flood of memories. I close my eyes and I see every time I came home late from the woods, mom running up to embrace me in a worried hug while dad stayed close behind reminding her that I could take care of myself. I watch as my dad teaches me for the first time how to use a bow and arrow and the ease at which I pick it up, hitting my target the first time through. I remember everything and it hurts worse than anything I've ever felt.

A twig snaps from behind me.

Even in my rundown state my head snaps up, locked in the direction the noise came from. In seconds I'm up, body tenses to either fight or run, whichever becomes necessary. The tears are still flowing softly down my cheeks, undistinguishable in the darkness of the forest. An instinct in me takes over and I push it all aside. The pain and sadness I felt is locked away and all that remains is anticipation of my surroundings.

What comes out of the tree is _not_ what I expect. I'd heard Billy telling my brother about the wild animals running lose – the wolves that filled the forest – but that's not what popped out from the darkness.

"Jacob?" My voice is cracking and forced.

I'm searching for clarification, though I know it's him. He walks further into the little clearing and soon three bodies follow suit. It's Sam, Jared and _Paul. _They're all wearing shorts but no shirts and I can't help but wonder how they aren't freezing. I've spent many nights outside and even _I'm _beginning to feel slightly cold.

Jacob's voice is concerned. "What are you doing out here, Ryim?"

I know he's only worried, but I feel a bit put off. "What are _you_ four doing out here?"

"It's dangerous out here," Sam says, stepping forward to take the front of the group, ignoring my question. He talks in a commanding voice. It's one that I've noticed he uses around the guys to get them to listen – and they do – but it has no affect on me.

"And I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Paul speaks up next, his body slightly shaking (although it could just be my eyes in the night or my mind imagining things). "What if we didn't come out? What if that was a wild animal that jumped out of the woods?"

"Then I would have fought it."

"You're not that strong!"

Years of keeping myself composed in the wild helps me keep myself from bursting into an argument with Paul. Instead, in a even tone I answer, "You have no idea how strong I am… This is my home now, Paul. All of you. I can do what I want."

Jared is fidgeting where he stands next to Sam. It's clear he wants to say something and I'm almost certain that it's what they all want to say. But it's Sam who speaks first.

"You can't wander around in these woods."

"I don't take orders from you, Sam."

I'm nearly at my limit.

"Ryim," Jacob pleads. "It's for your own safety."

He goes on, trying to convince me to go back, but I've already stopped listening. My eyes are scanning the surrounding area discretely. Within seconds I've found my spot. It's off to the right of the group, near Paul, and I judge that I can get past them before they can stop me. It's an easy enough path. Sam and the others are slightly to the left, leaving a rather large gap between them and the trees behind them.

Without a second thought I'm gone, running through the forest with ease. The deeper I go in, the denser the forest becomes. More trees block the path but it's not difficult for me to avoid. My eyes are darting between trees and the forest floor as I jump and maneuver my way.

It's a rush; a distraction that I need.

It gets my mind off my parents.

Behind me I hear a rippling sound. It's one that I've never heard before, but I know not to turn back. If I stop and take the time to look, they'll catch up to me. And if I turn while I'm running I run the risk of running into a tree, which at this point is very likely with the sudden increase of trees.

This keeps up for what feels like forever, but realistically I know only minutes have passed. It's the sound of a howl that freezes me in my spot. It's not the howl itself – I've heard wolves and creatures of all kinds make noises in the night that frighten most people. It's the shiver that runs up my spine at the sound – the very shiver I get when I catch Paul staring at me.

It's so unreasonable, the connection between Paul and the wolf that I forget I'm running from the guys and possibly a pack of wolves. I feel my face scrunch in confusion as I analyze my thoughts, jumping from one logical conclusion to one fantastical conclusion.

"_Impossible,"_ I mutter to myself, but I doubt even those words. I've always been good with drawing things together, no matter how fantastic they seem I'm usually right. But for once, I'm filled with doubt.

"Ryim!"

Paul's loud voice fills my head, bouncing around and making me cringe at its volume. He comes out of nowhere, clad in his shorts, and wraps his warm arms around me, bringing me in close to his body. I'm frozen. A shiver is the only movement my body makes.

His heat is warming me, calming the slight chill that was setting on my skin. It feels weird. I've only ever been this close to someone once in my life, besides my parents, and it brings back both good and bad memories. I shake my head, snapping out of the trance that Paul had managed to put me in. Just as the others arrive, I put my hands on his chest, pushing him hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

"Stop it!"

He seems confused, as do the others. I see them sharing worried glances. "What did I do?"

"Everything," I scream, aware that I've probably woken every animal in the forest up by now. "Just stop it! Stop trying to be nice. Stop trying to _protect_ me. And don't… don't get that close to me." My voice drops to a whisper as the last sentence leaves my lips.

Paul's face drops and my heart feels like it's going to fall out of my chest. I don't like the feeling. It's too familiar – to raw. It makes everything too real. Turning my head away, I face Jacob and the others. My dark gray eyes pick up every emotion they give off – the confusion, the worry, so sincere.

"Ryim…" Jacob starts, stepping forward.

It feels like a lump is forming in my throat and I barely get out the word, "_Don't_."

My cousin stops in his tracks hesitantly. I know he wants to reach out to me and to pull me into a hug, but I can't bring myself to let him. I can only think of my parents. Of how they aren't here to hold me or say my name anymore.

"You don't have to go through this alone."

"Stop it, Jacob," I cry. He doesn't listen.

"Billy… Billy told me they died in a car accident. On there way out to dinner?"

The lump in my throat grows bigger. Everything he says I see, imagining it now like I've imagined it every night since they left me.

"You didn't go."

They'd asked me to go, begged even, but I had refused. I'd spent the night before in the forest thinking about _my_ problems and I was too tired to go out again. I planned on spending the night at home in bed, watching a movie. I had tried to get them to stay home with me but they insisted on going out.

"It wasn't your fault, Ryim. It had nothing to do with you."

The tears are falling faster now and the sobs are coming on.

Jacob is wrong. It had everything to do with me. I'm the one that didn't try to convince them to stay home. I was too tired – I let them leave too easily. It haunts me every second of the day – if I had done something, tried harder, they might be alive. I could have done _something _to save them. But I didn't.

A warm hand is resting on my shoulder – Jacob's hand. I hadn't realized he was coming closer, to tangled in my guilt to notice. Instantly I coil away, taking off toward the house. My tears continue to fall, blurring my vision, forcing me to raise my hand constantly to clear my eyes. I can hear them shouting after me. Their footsteps are hard against the floor as they keep my pace. I'm near the edge of the forest when a branch I hadn't seen catches my leg, tearing into the tender skin.

A shot of instant burning spreads through my right leg and I make it out of the forest before I stop, lifting the hem of my dress to see the long gash on my thigh. I can't keep the long sigh in and I can't help but think that it really isn't my day today. Between arriving here and the arguments with Christopher and now _this_? Definitely not my day.

I drop the hem of my dress, limping my way back to the house. I'll have to go through the front door, I decide, because going through the window – while possible – may open the cut more and it's already bleeding quite a bit.

They've caught up to me. I can already feel their eyes on me and I know I'm really going to hate tonight.

"Ryim!" One of them shouts. At this point I'm not entirely sure. The blood that's continuously dripping from my leg has most of my attention.

A warm hand stops me and before I can protest I'm scooped up bridal style, my head against a burning chest. When I look up, I see Paul's face scrunched in worry and fear.

"I can walk you know," I butt in, ridiculously stubborn no matter what.

"Your leg is cut."

"It's not that bad," I say, trying to brush it off. But I'm not stupid – Paul's right. It's pretty bad.

Paul doesn't say anything. His worried eyes dart from the front to my leg over and over. Rather than pointing this out, I turn my attention to the other three who are still standing at the edge of the forest. They're talking and I can hear Sam's voice speaking.

"I'm going back on patrol. Jared, you're coming with me. Jake, you and Paul can handle this, right?"

Jacob nods his head.

This is all Sam says before he turns his back and disappears into the forest. Jared nods his head in my direction with a soft frown on his face. "Take care of her."

It's a simple gesture before he too disappears in the forest, but it causes Jacob to nod his head thankfully and a soft smile to spread on my lips. To think these people actually care, even the slightest, for me: the strange, stubborn girl who cut herself running in the forest.

My attention turns back to Paul and where he's taking me, but I instantly regret it. We've already crossed the yard and are ascending the small stairs to the front door. I groan, anticipating a long, _long_ night.

"What? Are you okay? Is it really sore? Do we need to go to the hospital?" Paul's voice is frantic.

The grip he has on my body tightens, bringing me closer to his body. His worried eyes are locked on mine and the only thing that I manage to say is, "I'm sorry I'm bleeding on you."

This idiotic phrase catches him off guard. He frowns, his eyebrows creasing, before a smile breaks out on his face and a laugh escapes his lips.

"You just got a huge cut on your leg and you're apologizing for bleeding on me? You really are a strange one, Ryim Hawthorne."

My stomach does a flip – a _flip _– as his laugh rumbles through my body. In all of my life I have never found someone who made me feel… well, like a girl.

I remember when I turned fifteen and mom would come in my room to have her "talks". We would spend hours talking about boys and what would happen when I got my first crush. She told me about the butterflies, the giggles, and the transiency of it all. Then there were times, over the next year, when she told me about _love_. Mom would sit down and she would tell me how I'd just_ know_ when the right man came along, how he'd stare at me with the love struck look on his face, and how he'd do anything to keep me safe and happy.

I'd hated talking about those things – I still do – but it was what my mom wanted to do, so it had been what I wanted to do, too. It was hilarious, really, when I think about it now but I treasure these memories.

I don't say anything back as we wait on the porch right outside the front door, presumably for Jacob. Instead, I close my eyes and lean my head against Paul's chest. It's either the heat or the loss of blood, but I'm feeling the slightest bit dizzy.

It's unexpected, but Paul speaks up. "It really wasn't your fault, Ryim."

His voice is soft and low and for a second, I'm almost willing to believe anything that he tells me. But the guilt I feel is too much to believe only words.

"I didn't go with them. I didn't try hard enough to make them stay home with me. I was selfish."

For a while he doesn't speak, choosing his words carefully. Then, barely audible, he says, "Then I guess I'm selfish too."

I don't ask him what he means. I don't even know if he meant for me to hear, but his words repeat on a loop in my head as every possible meaning runs through my mind. When Jacob finally arrives, I find I'm glad. Then I remember we're going to see Christopher and my mood dampens.

Just as I expect, the second Jacob opens the door and Paul walks in carrying me – all bloodied and covered in mud – my brother nearly craps his pants. Figuratively speaking, of course. His eyes widen and he jumps from his chair, rushing to my side. I scowl. For someone who has refused to be a part of my life for the past seven years he really is putting on a show.

"_What. Happened?"_

He sounds mad. It almost makes the pain worth it.

"It's just a little scratch, turtle… Paul, can you put me down somewhere I won't bloody up?"

"_Turtle? Who are you calling turtle?"_

I ignore my brother. Billy tells Jacob to get towels and he returns quickly, laying them out on the floor for me to sit on. Paul puts me down gently, but he doesn't leave my side. His hand is resting on the bottom of my back, his eyes glued to the cut.

Billy wheels himself closer. "What happened? I thought you were in your room?"

My head is spinning a little so I don't answer.

"She was in the woods," Jacob starts and I know I'm going to regret every word that comes out of his mouth. "We tried to get her out but she ran. When she stopped, I, uh – I said something stupid and she ran back to the house. She got cut on a tree branch on the way."

"It's really nothing," I say, but even I can tell my voice is weaker.

"That is not nothing! The cut won't stop bleeding. And the dirt is going to infect it. We need to go to a hospital!" Christopher's voice is loud and frantic – it nearly gives me a headache.

"Enough!" I shout. "You people need to learn how to calm down. Now," I pause, turning to Jacob. "Go in my room and grab the small pink bag in my suitcase. Quickly. And Christopher, get me a bucket of warm water and some cloths that Billy doesn't mind getting blood on."

It takes quite a bit of my energy to command them and they set off to get the items. I close my eyes, trying to regain my strength.

"Lean back," a voice whispers in my ear. It's Paul. I do as he says and find that he's situated himself to let me rest on him, my back against his chest. I don't complain – it's nice and warm and somehow gives me the burst of energy I'm going to need.

My brother comes back around the same time that Jacob appears, carrying my bag in hand. Jacob sets it down next to me and, much like Paul, refuses to leave me side. I push myself up into a sitting position on my own and pull the hem of my dress up high enough to see the full extent of the cut. In the light, it's easy to see I'd done a number on it.

"You have to clean that – "

"I'm well aware of that, Christopher," I say calmly, picking up one of the wet clothes and squeezing the extra water out into the tub he brought.

Slowly and wincing every few seconds, I begin to wipe away the dirt and the blood that has dried around the wound. The sight is nothing for me, but I hear Jane – who came out from I'm guessing the bathroom – shriek and go into the other room.

It takes three towels before I consider it clean enough to treat.

"Do you know what you're doing dear?" Billy asks.

I nod my head and open up the pink bag, revealing jars and needles, amongst other things. "Yes, I do Billy. Mom learned a lot about herbs and medicine when I started going into the woods. She is – _was_ – really good at it actually. I learned everything from her."

I pull out a small bottle of clear liquid, a needle, a lighter, and a package of thread. The wound is too large to leave open – I'll probably slowly bleed to death if I do.

"A _needle_?" Paul's voice is worried. "Ryim, maybe we should go to the hospital…"

"Don't be so squeamish, Paul. I can handle this. I'll tell you what I'm doing every step of the way if it makes you feel better."

He agrees and I see the other's nodding their heads too. It's a strange sight for me. Usually, when I'm wounded and fixing myself up I'm alone in the woods. Now I'm surrounded by a group of people who seem genuinely concerned about me – well, except for my brother.

I pick up the small bottle and uncap it. "This is going to stop the bleeding. It's made of witch hazel, aloe vera and some vitamin E oils. It took me about six weeks to make this, but it works like magic."

It stings as I apply it to my cut, that I estimate to be about four or five inches in length and rather deep, but the blood slows the second it comes into contact. When I've coated the cut I hand the bottle to Jacob and instruct him to shut it and put it away.

"I have to warn you, this part isn't going to be fun."

I'm met with confused and worried looks, but I don't let it stop me. Quickly, I pick the traumatic needle – that dad had gotten for me from a friend of his who worked for a hospital – and thread the suture thread through the small hole on the end of the needle.

"These are all sterile, the packaging keeps them that way. Usually I apply a small numbing mixture to the cut, but I've run out. I'll have to make some later. For now, I'm just going to have to suck it up."

"_What_," Christopher hisses.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Billy inputs, leaning forward in his chair.

"It's not that bad. I've done this before. Dad and I do this – _used_ to do this when I got hurt."

My voice is calm and collect, but even I know that this is going to hurt. Suturing cuts were never my favorite thing to do, especially without something to numb the pain, but its either that or bleed to death. The least I can do is make everyone around me at least a little lease uneasy.

With a deep breath, I begin to sew the wound shut. My breathing is ragged and I feel Paul's hands on my shoulders, his body close to mine. I want to tell him to get off, but at the same time I want to bring him closer. The mixed emotions keep me silent and confused, trying to focus my attention on the cut.

"I can't watch this," my brother barely gets out, rushing out of the room to join his girlfriend.

As much pain as I'm in and as focused I am on this cut, I still manage to roll my eyes at my wimp of a brother. It's about a minute before I finish, tying off the suture. I put the needle in a sterile bag to thrash along with the excess thread before I pack the rest of my supplies away in the pink bag.

"There, all done!"

It's a relief to be finished and I'm finally relaxing from the nights events when Paul voice breaks through the silence.

"You really need to be more careful, Ryim."

I snap my eyes open, surprised. "I didn't do it on purpose, Paul. It's not like I wanted to get cut."

"That's not what I mean – you should just stay out of the forest all together."

This boy, I realize, has an uncanny way of switching from being kind to being an ass in less than three seconds. "Don't tell me what to do!"

"Someone needs to. You don't even listen to your own brother!"

He's shaking now, like he'd been earlier, and it creeps me out. I crawl a few inches away from him.

"Stop it, Paul," Jacob growls – he _growled!_

"Black, you know why I'm like this," Paul growls back.

The whole growling thing is really starting to scare me. And it takes a lot to scare me.

Paul's shaking is getting worse and now he's standing, his impressive stature making him more frightening as he looms over me.

"Paul? Paul, you're kind of scaring me…" It's the first time I've been afraid like this and I don't like it at all.

"Out of the house, now!" Jacob steps in between Paul and myself, pushing at Paul's chest. Paul's brown eyes never leave mine, but the growls that continue to leave his throat makes my gray eyes widen and look away.

Jacob manages to get Paul out after much struggling, leaving me alone in the room with Billy. A few seconds after they leave I hear that same noise I'd heard in the forest: like something shifted. The sudden argument in the room hadn't reached Christopher and Jane – they were ignoring it if it had. Billy must have noticed my fearfulness as he reached forward and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You okay there, Ryim?"

I shake my head. "I… I've seen a lot of things, Billy. I've lived in the woods for two weeks once and while I was there I had to hunt for my food. I had to fight a lot of things to stay alive, but that… He really scared me."

"He only cares for you."

"He has a scary way of showing it."

"That's just how Paul is: he's got as short a temper as you do, dear."

"But we just met today. How can he care that much about me?"

I look up in time to see my uncle give a soft smile, one I'm sure he doesn't mean for me to see. "One day you'll understand."

_One day_, I think, scrunching my face in confusion, as I look at the door the two went through. There are a lot of secrets here in La Push and _one day_ I'm going to figure them all out.

* * *

><p><em>Hello everyone! I'm so pleased with how everyone is taking to my story. I hope you liked this chapter. You find out about what happened to Ryim's parents and a little about her mom and dad. You also get to see the different sides of Paul. And, Ryim is getting very suspicious of the whole group in La Push and she's definitely going to try her hardest to figure them out - secrets and all!<em>

_Please let me know what you guys think. I know some writers say they won't write until they get a certain amount and I'm not going to do that, but reviews really are what let me know you guys like where the story is going. It only takes a few seconds. Any suggestions, comments, whatever you have to say is welcome!  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Ryim Hawthorne: Extraordinary_

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><p>Chapter 3:<br>Only for _you_.

* * *

><p>I wake the next morning to the sound of hushed voices.<p>

From under the covers with my head pressed deep into the pillow I can still make out Jared's mumbled voice and Billy, along with a higher pitched voice that I've never heard before – a girl. _Thank God_, I think in my drowsy state of mind. I was beginning to think La Push was a reservation lacking in the female department (Leah is the only girl I've seen since my arrival).

Awake and knowing sleep won't come anytime soon, I slowly sit up in bed, carefully swinging my right leg over the edge. The bandage is soiled, caked with blood and the medicine I put on it last night. The sigh I feel escapes. Changing it will be a drag and it will _definitely_ hurt like hell. But it needs to be done to avoid an infection.

Groggy but alert, I make my way out of my room and into the bathroom directly across from me with a bag of supplies in hand. I quietly shut the door behind me, but I'm not worried about attracting the attention of the people in the living room.

This isn't the forest and I'm not trying to survive. I don't need to be quiet and it feels nice.

I cringe, horrified at the sight before me.

The bathroom is a mess. It shouldn't be a surprise for a house filled with boys around the clock, but it is. The sink and bathtub look like it hasn't been cleaned in a year. There is trash all over the floor, barely inches from the trashcan. And the toilet seat is up. I restrain the irritated scream. I know what I'll be doing later today. For now, my wound has my attention.

Grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper, I carefully put the seat down and shut the cover, tossing the paper into the trash. The extra gauze I brought and the ointment it on the counter, resting on a bed of toilet paper to keep them sanitary.

Miraculously, my long blond hair has managed to stay tangle free. I quickly tie it in a neat ponytail.

It was cold last night and in the middle of the night I'd rummaged around the room for a pair of long, loose pants, that I'm currently wearing. They're great for warmth but quite a hindrance for cleaning wounds. With caution, I slip the pants off and fold them neatly, placing them on the cleanest part of the counter I can find.

"Now, here comes the fun part," I whisper to myself, staring down at my right leg.

I can handle getting cut. I can sew it together without any anesthetic. Ripping the bandage off (with the dried blood and all) then cleaning? Not really my thing. Doing it in the morning? Even _worse_.

I rip the tape holding the gauze down off quickly, enduring the sharp pain, knowing it's better than slowly ripping it off. What comes next is the hard part and I cringe at the thought. My lip is wedge between my teeth, but I don't bite enough to draw blood.

Slowly I reach my hand out and grab the corner of the gauze. The second I start to tug, my heart sinks in my chest. It's _really_ caked on good – I think I might have slept on the wound last night. Anxious, I pull it a little further, getting a little less than an inch of the bandage off before my hand slips, ripping a couple inches off. A flow of fresh blood begins to develop, dripping to floor under my leg.

"MOTHER FUCKING PIECE OF _SHIT!_"

There are footsteps pounding in the hallway, from both sides, before the door slams open. The whole house feels like it's shaking. Worried, my head snaps to the door, my gray eyes widened in surprise. Jared and Jacob are squeezed in the door, concerned looks on their faces. I can make out Billy's chair behind them and someone with a smaller stature – the girl, I'm presuming.

"What happened?" They both ask at the same time.

I look down at the cut. Half of the bandage is hanging off, the blood still dripping to the floor. The sides of the wound are a bright shade of red – aggravated from the tugging.

"I was changing the bandage like this," I explain, holding the edge of the remaining bandage in my hand. "And then I – OH MY _SHIT_ – NOT AGAIN! THAT FUCKING HURTS!"

The rest of the bandage rips off, falling to the floor from my limp hands. A soft whimper leaves my lips as I stumble backwards, gripping the nearest thing – which turns out to be Jared – for balance. My thigh is throbbing. The blood is falling faster so I press my hand firmly against it, hoping to stop the flow. It slows, much to my relief, but doesn't stop.

Jared grabs my waist and guides me to the toilet seat. With his help, I manage to sit.

The next thing I know, Jacob is squeezing into the small bathroom with Jared and I, an intense concern on his features. He grabs the nearest clean towel and holds it to my cut, putting the slightest amount of pressure. I hiss at the pain, but he doesn't lessen. He knows the blood needs to stop.

"What were you thinking, Ryim?" He scolds. Deep brown eyes stare up at me. "You should have called one of us to help you."

"You were busy," I snap, not used to be scolded by people other than my brother. I advert my eyes from his. I notice the concerned gaze of Billy and Jared and, surprisingly, the petite girl that stands to Jared's right. "Besides, I could have handled it."

"_I can see that._"

"Stop being sarcastic with me Jacob Black," I yell, clearly exasperated.

"Then stop being stubborn," he counters. There's the faintest hint of smile on his face. He thinks this is funny.

"This isn't funny!"

"Of course, of course," he mutters, grabbing the medicine I have sitting on the counter, but I still see the smile on his lips. "This is going to sting, I assume."

I'm about to reply with some sarcastic comment when he pops the bottle and drips the liquid onto my cut. "Oh," I mutter as the sting invades my senses. It burns, but it doesn't _hurt_ too much. I can handle this, I tell myself. Before I know it he's stopped, capped the bottle and put it back on the counter.

"I'll let you do this," he mumbles, holding the gauze, unsure of how to use it.

I grab the gauze with a soft smile and replace it. The trauma to the cut from accidentally ripping the old gauze off is going to make it more sensitive during the day. I'm sure it's going to bleed a little and by the time I need to change it the gauze will be stuck again. I'll just have to be careful not to rip it off – again.

"On that note," Jared says, a sudden playful smile on his face. "Black undies?"

My face goes beet red – that doesn't happen often. I suddenly remember that I'm sitting in nothing but an old t-shirt and my black bikini fit underwear. My wide gray eyes stare at the group at the door and my mouth hangs open. The girl next to Jared, I assume she's his girlfriend, slaps him and warns him to leave me alone. She drags them all out, sending me a smile before she shuts the door behind her.

I officially love this girl.

"You guys are _so_ going to get it later." I hear her admonish the group. I can tell she is smiling. "Paul's is going to have your heads when he _sees_."

_When he sees,_ I question. How is Paul going to see what happened here? I'm trying to wrap my mind around it, but it doesn't make sense. Instead of driving myself insane trying to figure it out I stand and wobble my way out of the bathroom – after washing up – and into my bedroom to get changed into decent clothes. I decide to wear a white tank top with a light blue t-shirt that falls off my shoulders and a pair of yoga shorts that stop an inch above my cut.

When I leave my room again, this time heading toward the living room, I'm attacked by the noise that has managed to fill the room. As I get closer I see that Billy's disappeared, Jacob and Jared are wrestling on the floor, and Leah has appeared and is talking to the new girl.

The new girl brightens when she sees me. "Hi, I'm Kim – Jared's girlfriend."

I smile, limping my way over to her. Too much pressure on my leg and the cut starts to bleed. "Hi. I'm Ryim," I introduce, though I feel stupid. She probably knows how I am. Jokingly I add, "And you're dating that?" I point to Jared, who is so concentrated in his little game with Jacob to notice we're talking about him.

Kim smiles and nods her head enthusiastically. "Yep… How is your leg?"

"Oh, it's fine," I say, waving my hand in the air, brushing it off. I'm not going to let them think I can't walk. I'll die if I'm stuck in the house all day. "It's just a little cut."

"That's not what your screams a few minutes ago say," Leah interrupts, a sly smile on her face.

For a second, I'm too surprised to say anything. Then my mind starts to work again and I ask, "You were here? I wasn't that loud, _was I?_"

A bark of a laugh erupts from her. "I'm pretty sure you woke the whole res!"

I groan, hiding my face in the palm of my hand. "Thank God Christopher and his little Barbie doll are gone. He would have thrown a hissy fit."

"Barbie doll?" Kim asks, having never met Jane.

"Mhm," I mutter, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "The bane of my existence – the devil in a model's body."

"Why don't you like her?"

With a shake of my head, I slowly turn my body to face the kitchen. "It's a long story. I'll tell you later. Right now I'm hungry."

"It's only seven in the morning." Leah says.

"Well, then I'm hungry at seven in the morning," I laugh.

I limp my way into the kitchen, followed by the others. Jacob and Jared have even stopped fooling around long enough to follow, probably enticed by the promise of food, although I haven't said I'll cook for them. I open the fridge and nearly sigh – it's a barren wasteland. Barely anything to cook.

"_We're hungry too, Ryim,_" Jacob whines, earning an elbow from Leah.

"Yeah, well there isn't much. You _really_ need to stalk up on food."

"Emily does most of the cooking," Kim informs me. "She's Sam's fiancé. Everyone's usually at they're house for meals."

"Hmm."

I'm busy grabbing whatever I can to make a meal from the refrigerator. Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. Tomatoes – a little soft, but still usable. In the vegetable department, there isn't much. I pull out some green onions, but that's it.

"This is pathetic," I whisper, staring at the pile on the counter. "If my damn leg wasn't messed up I could go and catch something more filling than this."

Kim's horrified voice fills my ears. "You _eat_ what you catch?" I guess the guys told her about the forest and me.

"Sometimes," I answer, shrugging my shoulders. "Rabbit tastes pretty good when you're hungry."

For the next ten minutes or so we continue to make conversation. Nothing of importance pops up. They ask me how I like it here – I laugh and tell them I've only been here for a day but it isn't look to fantastic, with my cut and all. After that we switch to easier topics – like how Kim and Jared met and how long they've been dating. Kim is genuinely nice and I decide that like her – we're going to be good friends, I can see it. She's very open, something that I'm not used to entirely, but it suits her personality. The boys who are whining every few minutes for food are annoying Leah. Meanwhile I'm limping to and from the counter to the stove, cooking breakfast. Soon, the house is filled with the smell of meat.

By the time I'm done, I realize that I've cooked too much, thinking that it wouldn't _be_ enough. I cooked all of the meats that I found, pilling them onto two of the largest plates I could find in Billy's cabinets. I'd chopped the tomatoes and the green onions up, using them to make the eggs taste a little better. A fresh pot of rice just finished. And freshly baked muffins were resting on the table – there were somehow enough ingredients to make them, but I'll have to go shopping today if we have any hope on surviving.

The girls and I grab our food first, before we let the two devour the rest of the food – which is quite a lot, actually. I'm surprised as I watch them eat, my own plate still untouched. They're shoveling food into their mouths like they've been starving for _months_.

"Uh, do you guys breathe at all when you eat?"

Jacob looks up from his plate. He tries to talk and a spray of food comes out of his mouth, falling around his plate.

"_Ew_," Kim squeals, backing away, protectively holding her plate of food. I do the same.

"Never mind, never mind!" I shout before he tries again. I laugh and begin to eat my own food, watching the group in amusement.

They are unlike anything I've come across in my life. Then again, it wasn't like I spent a lot of time around people. I'm usually in the forest, too far from people to worry about watching them. But these guys are hilarious. I can tell they're more than comfortable around each other. It's like they're family.

Leah interrupts my thoughts. "So, Ryim, got your eyes on anyone yet?"

I nearly choke on the piece of the muffin I just toke a bite out of. My plate is quickly on the table as I pound my chest, trying to breathe. When air finally comes, I turn to Leah with wide eyes. "_What?_"

"Any of the guys catch your eye?"

My mouth is hanging agape.

"I've only been here a day! I haven't seen anyone else outside of Billy's house!"

"But there's someone you're _interested_ in, isn't there?"

She's pushing me. I blush and promptly raise my hands to my cheeks. _I don't blush_, I tell myself, clearing my throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Leah's grinning, clearly liking this game. "Of course you don't. Oh hey, look, here comes Paul!"

Not only my cheeks, but also my ears, have now gone bright red. Paul. He's about as hot and cold as they come. He had me scared out of my mind last night with his outburst, but at the same time he can be the sweetest. I haven't confronted him but I'm planning on it. I just don't know when it would be best. After all, I can't really run if he starts to freak again.

Paul, ever the oblivious one, walks into the living room with a huge grin on his face. He tries to be sly as he walks over to stand next to me, but the others catch it and burst into laughter. My blush reddens, if possible.

"I'm full," I announce, dropping my dishes in the sink. And, as payback, I grin at Jared and Jacob. "You two – kitchen duty."

Instant groans.

"Don't complain," I snap, glaring playfully at the two. "Or I'll never cook for you again!"

Jacob tries to look unfazed. "We'll just get Emily to cook for us." He's smug – sure he's won.

"I'll ask Sam to introduce us and I'll convince her to cook for everyone but you two."

Their eyes widen. "You wouldn't," Jared gasps, like it's a big scandal.

I raise my eyebrow and they crumble, scrambling to get the kitchen clean.

* * *

><p>I've been condemned to house arrest. Apparently they notice things, too. I've been limping around the house, wincing every time pressure went on my right leg and they caught on. Billy told me I was to stay in the house and to try and keep still which; if anyone knows me they know it is close to impossible. Still, I haven't been given many chances to escape into the forest. After my little escape last night, everyone decided it was best to have someone with me at all times. Right now it's Kim, Paul and Embry.<p>

Paul and Embry are sitting on the floor, talking about something that I'm paying little attention to. Kim is next to me on the couch. I'm shifting in my seat – uncomfortable sitting for too long, unless I'm in a tree.

"_Guys_," I say and they all groan.

"You're not going out," Paul commands, a firm but soft look on his face. "Your cut will bleed."

"It's not that bad," I mumble, but I can't keep my voice loud enough for people to hear.

"Why don't we play a game?" Kim suggests. She really is a sweet heart, always trying to keep the peace. "We can't do anything rough because of Ryim's leg, but we can do twenty questions or something."

"Truth or dare!" Embry shouts the second she stops speaking. I roll my eyes at his childish behavior. At least it'll take my minds of things.

"You first then," I prod. "You can choose someone."

"Paul," he laughs, and instantly Paul's face is thoughtful. "Truth or dare my man?"

He doesn't know what to choose. I can see him thinking. He gives me a quick glance before he sits up straighter. "Dare."

_Aw,_ I think, _he's so cute._

My eyes widen and I shake my head, clearing the thoughts away. There is no way my mind is going in that direction. It must be left over thoughts from what Leah was saying earlier. Yup. That's it.

"I dare you to… have Ryim sit on your lap for the rest of the game."

If my eyes could fall out of my head, they would. "Uh, aren't you supposed to be daring _Paul_? That sounds like a dare for _me_."

I'm trying not to seem freaked out. My heart is pounding a million miles per minute. I'm struggling to keep from screaming. I'm beyond nervous. Why did Embry have to choose _that_ for a dare? Paul's eyes are shy, something I don't think is normal to him, and he clears his throat. He doesn't know what to do.

I roll my eyes at Embry's antics and force myself up. "Come here, Paul. Looks like you're my new chair." There's a hint of playfulness in my voice and I hope it masks the nervousness I feel.

Paul is quickly sitting where I had been and I settle into his lap, careful not to bump my cut. I have to admit this is pretty nice. Paul is warm and comfortable and we _fit_ together, if that makes sense. The uneasiness that I feel disappears and I smile at Embry, who is watching, along with Kim, with a curious look on his face. Grabbing Paul's arms, I wrap them around my waist and lean back against his chest.

"You're actually a pretty good chair."

He's stumbling for words. "Oh, um. Uh, thanks."

I laugh softly and tuck a few strands of blond hair behind my ear. _He's cute_, I think and this time, I don't admonish myself. "So you're next Paul. Choose someone."

"You," he answers without hesitation. I can't help but feel like he isn't talk about the game. Then he adds, "Truth or dare."

Tilting my head to look up at him, I consider my options. "Well, I feel like I've already been dared. Truth, I guess. Lay it on me!"

Paul does something that amazes me. He gets a really concentrated look on his face and I know that he's thinking really, _really_, hard about what he wants to ask me. It's like this is the most important question he's going to ask and it needs to be perfect. Finally, his eyes snap down to me.

"What did you and your mom like to do most?"

His question catches me off guard. He's so earnest, so _interested_ in what the answer is going to be that my words catch in my throat. It's like a lump has formed and I'm pushing back the tears. I would never have thought that Paul, who I believed to be arrogant the first time I saw him, to ask me this. Maybe something along the lines of, _how many boys have you dated _or _do you think I'm hot_, but never this.

The lump is still there, but I answer, very aware of the three pairs of eyes on me. "Mom was a model when she was younger, before she had Christopher and me. Whenever I was little she would bring out a scrapbook full of pictures she'd been in over the years. When she thought I was old enough, she put me into modeling. Whenever we went to shoots together, that was her favorite thing. I… I guess that's what we liked to do best."

"How long were you in modeling?"

"Uh, about three or four years. I… I try not to think about it much now. It… reminds me of her too much."

Paul's arms tighten around my waist, bringing me closer. I lean my head back and treasure the safety that I feel as I'm wrapped in his arms.

"Is that why you don't like Jane?" Kim asks quietly, unsure if she should talk.

I shake my head. "No," I say, giving her a soft smile. "I guess to put it simply, I don't like her because I know she doesn't like me."

"How do you know she doesn't like you?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I just do." But there's more to it than that. I just don't want to go into that. "Anyway," I say, biting back tears and pretending that everything is fine. It's amazing how fast sadness can become a mood killer. I don't want to ruin the little fun that I'm having. "My turn. Kim, truth or dare?"

She thinks for a second, her deep brown eyes staring at the wall, before she nods her head. "Dare."

"Oh, good choice," I say, smiling. "We're having a little mini photo shoot later. You, me, and Leah and the guys too. And you're the star!"

Kim is excited, smiling and nodding her head in agreement, but Embry protests saying he's far too manly for that. "Oh shush, you. You're doing it. Paul, you're doing it right?" I ask, batting my eyelashes as I peer up at his face with my head still resting on his chest.

Paul smiles brightly. "Sure." I can almost hear the _anything for you_ that he leaves out. I get that shiver that only he can cause.

"Great," I exclaim. "You can be my man!"

The words leave my lips before I realize what I've said. Kim smiles in that way girls do when they see couples walking hand in hand. Embry, on the other hand, bursts into laughter. I'm never going to get him to forget this. A faint blush tints Paul's cheeks.

"I-I... What I mean is… Well, you can be my _partner_, you know? Uh…" I'm stuttering. I feel ridiculous. "You're going to be my… Ah, hell," I sigh, rolling my eyes. I smile up at Paul, who looks like he's just won the lottery. "You're going to be my man."

He leans down. His lips are barely centimeters from my ear. I can feel his hot breath and he exhales. "_Only for you,"_ he whispers, just loud enough for me hear.

My heart skips a beat, but I feel like it's stopped – my breathing has. Embry's laughing doesn't faze me. Kim's _aw's_ don't reach my ears. Paul is the only thing my trained senses tune into.

_Only for you_.

Only for _me_.

I grin. I'm definitely going to like La Push.

* * *

><p><em>Hey everyone! Paul is ever the lady's man, is he not? This was a cute chapter, I think. A little less drama and a little more interaction between Paul and Ryim. Mind you, Paul still hasn't seen the whole bathroom seen (with Ryim in her underwear) so it should be interesting when he does. The next chapter will have Ryim trying to gather everyone for the photos. I'm thinking of having her bring in a friend (a photographer) and having professional photos taken! Also, Emily gets introduced next chapter and Paul and Ryim have a rather deep conversation. Stay tuned. Let me know what you think in your reviews!<br>_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:  
>I'll Tell You My Secrets, if You Tell Me Yours<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>I've been staying awake in the front seat for days. Let the wheel turn and take me away. Oh, the truth I must tell is I'm lonely as hell, still looking for myself…"<em>

In between the ridiculously strict shifts the boys put together to keep me in the house, I have managed to slip away for some alone time. I don't know how they managed to not notice I'm not in my room. It feels like they notice _everything_ when it comes to me. There hasn't been a second since I got my cut that one of them didn't see me wincing and force me to sit. Just last night I put too much pressure on my leg and pain shot up through my body, forcing me to wince. Quil, who I notice looks up to Jacob and Paul, was by my side in a flash, forcing me to sit down and relax.

I don't know where I am. I know it's a beach. I suppose it's the only one here, maybe I'm wrong, but La Push isn't the biggest place in the world. It's early morning and the sun is barely up in the sky casting a lite light around me. The waves are roused, crashing on the shore only for the murky water to recede.

I shiver as the wind blows around me and wrap my arms around me. Even in my jeans and long-sleeved shirt I'm still cold as I sit on the sands, overlooking the waters.

I'm singing, but I'm not sure why.

"_It rains all day when you're not around and I'm trying my best to come clean with the clouds –"_

I stop singing.

I'm remembering my parents and how we used to sing around the house all the time. And I'm thinking of Paul, who's somehow managed to get deep under my skin. I've yet to talk to him about the night he scared me, but I'm suddenly not sure that I want to. Maybe bringing it up will ruin it. I like this Paul. He's sweet and caring and protective. He reminds me of the kind of guy mom would tell me about when we would have our talks. The kind of guy that you can spend forever with.

And it's only been three days.

I'm not the kind of girl to fall head-over-heels for the first guy she meets but I can't help the butterflies I get whenever he comes around. Whenever he smiles, I find myself smiling. If I say something that hurts him there's a tug at my heart that has become too familiar.

But then there's the secrecy I sense around him and the others in the group, or the _pack_ as I've heard them call it. They're always running off into the woods. I'm not sure what they're doing in there, but I know that they won't tell me if I ask them. And their temperature, oh lord, is _way_ too hot, too. I worry that they're sick, but they've reassured me it's the Quileute blood that keeps them naturally warmer than the rest of us. When I tried to reason that _I'm_ Quileute too (at least partially), they argued that I wasn't enough.

Something running in the woods breaks me from my thoughts. It's far off, but it's fast. Curious, as I've always been, I stand and dust the sand off. Before I can register that this might not be the brightest idea, I'm walking into the forest that surrounds the beach. It's dimly lit, but I can see everything perfectly. There's nothing there but voices catch my attention. It sounds far off, muzzled a little by something and I tune into it.

"_You're _dead,_ Jared!"_

I jump. It's Paul's voice! And from the sound of it he's really mad. The tone of his voice is worse than the night he scared me. I scrunch my face, wondering what he's upset about.

"_Calm down, Paul!" _Jared shouts, defensively. _"It was just a joke. You're just mad you didn't see her in her underwear!"_

"_I JUST DID! But that's not that point, you idiot!" _

A blush rises to my cheeks. They're talking about _that?_ _God,_ I think, sliding my hand against my face. And, wait… Did Paul say he _saw_? How the hell did Paul see me in my underwear? Oh God. What's going _on_?

"_Stop it you two. You're supposed to be looking for her. Focus."_ Sam's voice draws their focus in, but I can still feel the anger seeping from Paul at Jared and I'm assuming Jacob, too.

As clear as I can hear them, I still can't see them. No matter how I twist my head or how much further into the woods, toward the voices, I go I still can't see them. I continue to listen to their conversation, hoping I'll find them. I'm beginning to get a little freaked out here. Usually, I never feel anything but safe in the woods, but something is different about today.

The mood shifts. Paul's words are the complete opposite as he talks about me.

"_God, I hope she's okay. Where is she? I can't believe she went out again. Her leg! I hope it isn't bleeding. I hope it doesn't hurt –"_

"_Paul," _a voice interrupts, annoyed with his constant rambling. It's Jacob._ "Enough already, man. We'll find her!"_

There's what sounds like a snarl from the woods, close to me. I jump, a gasp leaving my lips, but it's too late for me to run – if I could. Before me stands a large, dark silver wolf, that's much too large to be a regular wolf. It must be at least six times the average size, with dark brown eyes that seem too _human_.

I'm frozen. The wolf doesn't move. It's still, body tensed, as it stares at me with its deep chocolate eyes. It's not snarling, it's not moving towards me – it's just watching me. Strangely, though I'm too scared to move, I find my mind wandering to Paul because this wolf's eyes remind me so much of him.

"_Control yourself Paul. Don't do anything stupid_." Sam's voice snaps, commanding. It's coming from somewhere to the wolves' right and I find my head snapping in that direction, pleading that he'll be here to help me.

He's not there. Instead, I hear Paul's voice reply, _"Did you see that? It's like she heard you Sam."_

_Oh my god,_ I'm thinking on a loop.

Something really strange is happening. I'm hearing Sam and Paul but they're nowhere in sight. And what Paul said confuses me even more. Of course I heard him! His voice was so loud. I'd have to be deaf not to hear him!

There's rustling from the direction I'm sure I heard Sam and my eyes focus harder. I gasp when the shape comes into focus. It's another wolf! This one is pitch black and bigger than the silver wolf. His bright eyes are staring directly at me.

"_That's impossible,"_ Sam insists.

"_And she's looking right at you,"_ Jared's voice joins in the conversation.

My eyes dart between the silver wolf and the black one just as my ears pick up what I assume is the third and fourth wolf, heading toward the black one. I think I might be going into shock. I swear I heard Jared say that I'm looking at Sam, but I'm not. I'm looking at an insanely large wolf. It's impossible. Completely impossible. But my mind snaps to a dream I've had many times and I stumble backwards, landing on the floor in a painful heap.

The wolf in front of my whines, almost like it's worried I'm hurt.

Instantly, Sam's voice commands _"Stand down, Paul. Don't move."_

The wolf stops whining and doesn't move, though its eyes never leave mine.

My mouth opens and closes a couple times. Finally, when my heartbeat calms and my voice comes to me, I point my finger accusingly at the silver wolf and stutter out, "P-Paul?"

The air tenses. The silver wolf's eyes widens almost in surprise.

"_Paul. Stop looking so surprised. She doesn't know."_

Frustrated, confused, and a little scared, I'm screaming accusingly at the black wolf, "What don't I know?"

Suddenly, just as abruptly as they came, the wolves are gone. They disappear into the forest, leaving me on the forest floor, gripping onto the last string of sanity that I have. A few seconds later Jacob, Sam, Paul and Jared step into the little clearing I'm in, clad in only cutoff shorts. They look worried and just as confused as I feel.

Paul steps toward me and I instantly scramble backwards, stopping him in his tracks. He's wearing that heartbroken look on his face and I feel the tug, but I push it aside, too afraid.

"There you are, Ryim," Sam says cautiously, testing me. "We were looking for you."

For a moment I'm too shocked to speak. They're trying to act like nothing just happened! Like there wasn't a pack of wolves surrounding me a few seconds ago, only for them to disappear and for Sam and the others to appear in their place!

"Ryim, are you okay?" Jacob's voice is soft and he takes a slow step forward but stops when I flinch.

I don't answer him. My mind is racing a million miles a second. The dreams that I used to have frequently is replaying itself in my head. I see the tribe and their chief. I don't know his name – there are never any words with the dreams. Just images. I recall the image of him sharing the wolf's body, how his body shakes and suddenly he's human again. But it's impossible. They're just dreams. Only figments of my imagination.

Suddenly I'm shaking. I'm not cold, but I'm scared. My breathing quickens and my heart is racing like it would be if I'd just run. I'm not sure what's going on, but I want it to stop.

"Sam? Sam! What's happening to her?" Paul is shouting.

I can feel his presence next to me. His warm hand is on my shoulder, but it does nothing to stop me from shaking. Am I having a panic attack? I'm not sure what it's like, but it seems to fit the situation. I'm surrounded by a bunch of guys who I'm pretty convinced turn into _wolves_. I think a panic attack is warranted.

"I'm not sure," Sam says and I see genuine concern on his face. "It looks like she's going to phase."

_Phase_? What is _phasing?_ I don't understand what's happening to me. My shaking is getting worse. I try to calm myself down but nothing is working. I feel like crying. Selfish thoughts fill my head. _I want my mom. I want my dad. I wish I was anywhere but here. I don't want to be here anymore!_

"That's impossible," Jacob shouts. "She's not full Quileute!"

"Well then how do you explain this, Jacob?"

"_Paul_," I cry. "Paul, I don't _feel_ good!"

Paul wraps his arms tightly around me, whispering, "I know, Ryim, I know. It'll be okay. _Shhh_."

"Paul, you need to stand over here. Just in case she phases."

Paul lets out a growl, but I'm too sick to feel afraid anymore. "I'm not going to let her sit here by herself!"

"You're going to get hurt. Now come here, Paul."

Sam's voice is strong and demanding and soon Paul is leaving my side reluctantly. He's staring at me with such a strong look of sadness that it nearly breaks my heart. I almost forget that I feel like I'm dying, but I don't.

"_What's happening?"_ I scream, just as sharp pain shoots up my spine and continues to flow through my body. It feels like I'm breaking into a million pieces. I roll onto my hands and knees, struggling against the pain to stand. It's hard – my body is shaking and it feels like I can barely breathe.

"Just relax, Ryim," Sam says, trying to be calming.

"_Relax?_ I feel like I'm _dying_," I groan, finally managing to stand. I hear his voice again, telling me to calm down and to sit down, but I'm stumbling forward into the forest. I don't know what's making me go in, but something is pulling me deeper and deeper into the forest.

The pain is getting worse. _I'm going to die_, I think, tears stinging my eyes. The next few minutes of my life are agonizing. My heart is beating to fast I'm sure it's going to stop any moment now. It feels like my body is on fire.

A blood-curdling scream leaves my lips as I fall forward.

Before I can hit the floor a familiar sounds fills my ears: it's the ripping noise I heard as Paul left the house the night he scared me. The only difference: this time it's coming from me. My clothes fall to the floor around me in shreds. The pain stops. _Everything's back to normal_, I think.

Then I notice the pure white fur.

My heads snaps around. I'm covered in fur. How is this possible? I'm beginning to panic. Up ahead I hear the sound of water dripping to the forest floor. I rush forward, running on my four legs. It's strange, but feels oddly comfortable. I slow only when I see the puddles of water. Slowly, I edge my way over to a puddle, nearly fainting at the sight before me.

_I'm a freaking wolf!_

I'm a wolf: a really big, snow-white wolf with bright red eyes. How is this possible? It isn't! It must be another dream. Any moment now I'm going to wake up in bed under my oversized comforter. I'll be back home, not here in La Push. I'll get up and get breakfast that mom will have just finished. I won't be a wolf. I'll be _human_.

"_Ryim!"_

Paul's voice is bouncing through my head, like he was in there. But that's impossible. Just like being a wolf is impossible.

"_It's not impossible, Ryim_,_" _Sam's voice joins in. _"You _are_ a wolf."_

_No,_ I tell myself, refusing to listen. Being a wolf is impossible. I'm not a wolf. I'm not. I'm _not_!

"_The sooner you accept this, the easier it'll be,"_ Sam adds.

A second later I get a flash of an image. It's the path I just used to get to the water. But they aren't the way _I_ saw them. It's almost like I'm seeing it through someone else's eyes. The next thing I know, the wolves I saw earlier are standing in front of me. The silver wolf that I think is Paul, the black one I think is Sam, and two others.

"_Holy crap! She's huge."_ My head snaps to the wolf with short brown fur. _"She's bigger than you, Sam!"_

"_Jared? H-how are you talking? You're a wolf and you…"_

"_It's a pack thing,"_ Jacob, the wolf with reddish-brown fur, explains. _"We can hear each others thoughts. We can see what the others see if we think about it, too."_

I don't speak. It's quiet for a while before Jacob says, or _thinks_, _"Your eyes are creepy as hell, Ryim."_

I take a step towards my cousin and growl. I actually _growl_. Once again I'm freaking out. My breathing is quickening and I can't stay alert – which is unusual for me. I need to go back to normal. I want to be in my _human_ skin again. I can't do this!

"_You can phase back, Ryim."_

"_I can, Sam?"_ I sound hopeful. _"How?"_

Paul steps forward, nudging me with his nose toward the tree. Confused, I let him push me behind the tree and watch as he walks away. I don't have time to question his actions as Sam speaks up.

"_Just focus on changing back and you'll be able to phase back, but you need to be calm."_

I don't ask any more questions. I take deep calming breaths, trying to slow my heartbeat. I focus everything on changing back. I want to be human again – normal. It's hard and takes a while before a weird sensation ripples through my body. Suddenly I'm human again and the cut that used to be on my leg is gone. I'm human again and I'm _naked_.

"OH MY GOD!"

Instinctively my hands fling around my body, trying to cover myself, though it's useless. Now I know why Paul pushed me behind the tree. Oh God, if I had changed in front of them… A blush rises to my cheeks at the thought of standing naked in front of the pack. In front of Paul.

A thump resounds from my right and I pick up the plastic bag that one of the wolves left me. It's clothes. I quickly put it on. It's nothing more than an oversized shirt that falls to my knees. I still feel overexposed but it's better than nothing. Tugging at the bottom of the shirt, I walk into the clearing, staring at the wolves in front of me.

"Uh, thanks for the shirt?"

Sam nods his head to Paul and the others and I hear his command, _"Go phase back so we can talk to her."_

Quickly, I respond. "You don't need to. I can hear you."

"_That's impossible,"_ Sam says.

"Oh… Does it not work that way? I heard you earlier, too. Before I, uh, changed."

The wolf version of Sam shakes his head. _"We only see each others thoughts when we're in wolf form. For you to be able to hear us is… unusual."_

I want to say something to break the uneasiness that I feel, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, I open and close my mouth like a fish out of water.

"_Let's get you changed and get you to my house. We need to talk about this._"

Sam is the alpha – I know this for certain. It explains the strength of his voice and the way in which the others seem to crumble under his command. Sam is the alpha and we are a pack. I never thought I would say those words.

Then again, I could not have expected I would be a wolf before I turned eighteen.

* * *

><p>Sam's house is nice. It's quaint, but large enough to hold the boys when they're all over – because as Leah told me, they're always over there for one thing or another if they're not at Jacob's or <em>my<em> house, I suppose I can call it.

I'm standing on the steps leading up to the house. I shift in my place, tugging on the jean shorts I threw on in a rush. I'm nervous. About what? I'm not really sure. I think a part of me is trying to avoid talking about being a wolf because as long as I avoid it, I can pretend it didn't happen and that this whole thing is one bizarre dream.

"Come on in, Ryim."

Sam's prodding wakes me from my thoughts and I follow the boys into the loud house. My heart is pounding fast. Everyone is here, scattered in the living room area. All eyes turn to us as we enter and Sam quickly crosses the room to kiss a pretty woman. I notice the scars on the side of her face and inwardly cringe, wondering if it was one of the wolves who caused it, but too scared to ask it aloud. Emily, as I'm assuming she is Sam's fiancé, turns to me once she and Sam have separated.

"You must be Ryim! It's so nice to meet you, dear."

I struggle to find my voice. "U-uh, yeah. It's nice to meet you, too, Emily. You have a nice home."

She smiles and thanks me but doesn't say much more. I wonder if she knows that Sam has something to say. I think she does because she walks over to the nearest chair and sits, looking expectantly at her fiancé.

"So what's going on? You guys seem tense," Leah blurts out, nodding in our direction.

Jared and Jacob have taken to standing off to my right and Paul is right next to me. I can see his hand twitching to hold mine, but he doesn't move. He's not sure if I'll let him or if it will only frighten me more – I can see it on his face. I _want_ him to hold my hand – to bring me in close – but I'm too nervous to move.

Sam clears his throat. All attention turns to him. "Ryim phased."

The room is silent.

"How is that possible," Embry is asking. "Isn't she only _half_ Quileute?"

"I'm not sure how it's possible, but it is."

"She is hot."

"Paul," Quil is rolling his eyes. "We all know you think she's hot. Just cause you im-"

"Quil," Paul snaps, causing me to jump. By the look in his eyes I know that whatever Quil was about to say was something important. Another _secret_ I'm not allowed to know.

I'm fidgeting where I'm standing with my arms wrapped around myself. This is all too unbelievable. A few weeks ago everything was normal. Mom and dad were alive and well. I was normal and happy and content with everything going on in my life. I wasn't a wolf – a freaking _wolf_.

The group is talking loudly, but I don't hear a word they're saying. I know I should be paying attention because it's about me, but my mind can't focus. All I can think of is my future or what remains of it. Am I supposed to stay in La Push for the rest of my life? Will I ever be able to leave or will I forever be a part of the pack? I can't stay here, I know I can't – I won't be able to handle it. I need to be free. I need to _choose_ where I am.

And I'm so _angry_ with everyone for keeping such a big secret from me. Every second I spent around them, every time I questioned their weird traits, they brushed me off like it was nothing. If I pushed it, I was crazy. But they all knew when I didn't and they chose to keep it from me.

Jacob. My own cousin didn't tell me the truth. We aren't that close, I know its because we haven't really spent much time with each other but a part of me still expected honesty from him. And Paul. I don't know how to explain how angry and hurt I'm feeling because he never told me. I've known him for three days but the tugging I get at my heart – I _can't_ be the only feeling that.

Without saying anything, I turn my back on the group in front of me and run out the door as fast as I can. I don't stop until I'm far enough away from the house that I can't see it. My heart is pounding in my chest. I squeeze me eyes shut tightly, wishing that by some magic I'll be back to normal.

I hear breathing behind me. Warm arms engulf me, pulling my head close to a burning chest.

Paul's voice rumbles in his chest. "I'm sorry… I wanted to tell you but I couldn't. Sam – he's the al-"

"The alpha. I know." I'm surprised when my voice reaches my ears.

"It'll get better – easier."

"How, Paul? _Nothing_ is going to make this any easier," I shout, pushing away from his chest, holding back the tears that want to fall. "I've lost my mom and dad. I moved thousands of miles away from my home and my friends. And now I turn into a fucking wolf! Nothing is ever going to make this easier… Nothing's ever going to make me, _me_ again."

He doesn't know what to say. I can tell that he's never been in this situation before – trying to comfort someone other than himself.

"_Ryim_… Listen to me. We – _I'm_ – here for you. You don't have to go through all of this alone."

I'm so hurt, so angry, so _tired_. "What choice do I have?"

"You can choose to let us in!" He snaps, but this time I don't jump. This time I narrow my eyes in a glare.

"Let you in? That requires trust, Paul. And I can't trust you when you're not telling me everything! What was Quil going to say back at Emily's? And don't pretend like you don't know!"

"_Ryim, I don't think that it's a good idea…"_

"If you aren't going to tell me the truth, don't talk to me!"

I'm screaming so loud my throat is starting to hurt. I'm ready to turn and leave when he whispers something I don't understand.

"I… imprinted… on you."

"_Imprinted?_"

"It's something we can do, but it's extremely rare." Paul is choosing his words carefully. He's watching me like I'm going to bolt the second the words leave his lips. My anxiety is getting worse. I actually contemplate running for a second. "When we imprint everything changes. It's like finding our soul mate. We'll be anything they want us to be – a friend, a brother, a _boyfriend_. And nothing else matters anymore. When our imprint is hurt, we're hurt. If they're sad, we're sad."

"The tugging," I manage to whisper. The tugging at my heart whenever he's sad is because he _imprinted_ on me. Because we're meant to be together.

I'm a wolf who has found her soul mate. "Paul?"

Paul's worried eyes flickers over to me, waiting for me to continue.

"Am I ever going to be able to leave La Push?"

His face falls and so does my heart and I _know_. I just know that I'm never going to be able to leave Paul's side – not without breaking his heart and mine.

* * *

><p><em>Hey everyone! As you can see, I changed this chapter. I know I was going to make the photoshoot thing this chapter, but I really wanted to post this and I couldn't get the nagging feeling to post this to leave me alone. I hope you liked it all the same! Let me know what you guys think of this and what you think should happen next! Also, some of you were asking what Ryim looks like. Description wise she is tall, has long curly blond hair, and gray eyes. She is slender (like a model). If I had to choose someone, I'd say I'd picture her as Aly Michalka. Also, to pronounce her name is pretty simple: r-i-m (RIM). Just think of the Y as a silent y. Review! And thank you for reading!<em>


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